


like a shadow loves the sun.

by tomlinsoul



Series: the pain never leaves, but neither do you. [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Disability, Fluff and Angst, Harry Styles Loves Louis Tomlinson, Hurt/Comfort, Louis Tomlinson Calls Harry Styles Pet Names, M/M, Mobility Aids, Nausea, Protective Louis Tomlinson, fatigue, fibromyalgia, harry is louis' baby, in depth discussion of disability and medical complications, mostly fluff but disability is angsty baby, this is effectively 24h in the world of fibro/chronic illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:55:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22865938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomlinsoul/pseuds/tomlinsoul
Summary: It’s a nice evening, but it isn’t a nice night. Harry’s nearly crying from the frustration and pain that are staving off sleep, an enemy to the single most important thing in ensuring he can function the following day. His heated blanket and weighted blanket are snuggled around him, the room is cool and the lighting is perfect, Louis is right beside him sleeping off the emotionally intense day — everything is perfect, but he still can’t sleep.or; the sequel to 'I met a superhero.' in which Harry goes to a hospital appointment and they both deal with the fall-out.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: the pain never leaves, but neither do you. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643623
Comments: 6
Kudos: 144





	like a shadow loves the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! I hope you enjoy this therapy piece as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please remember that I am writing purely from my own experience and things like consultations will depend on the hospital, treatment plan, and country! Please don't take this as medical advice even if a 'doctor' says it in the fic. I am not a doctor, and while some of the behaviours are medically recommended - for ME - some things are just my own coping mechanisms. 
> 
> find me on [tumblr](https://effortlesslie.tumblr.com/) to say hi, or to credit me if this is rec'd by anybody! 
> 
> as always I'm sending so much love to anybody who clicked on this because they are dealing with issues discussed in this fic x

Louis hadn’t really expected his life to turn out this way. 

His type had always been boys like Harry; soft, gentle, a little shy. He had grown up the centre of attention - loud and confident - but his friends were always quieter than him, he hadn’t been a part of the laddy, over-masculine group, content with his small group of very close friends who put up with his over-excited bullshit despite never understanding it. Mellowing out as he grew older didn’t change anything though, still instinctively drawn to quieter, calmer people. In university, he pictured himself with someone identical to Harry’s personality, and really he hadn’t believed it when he met his dream guy in a hospital corridor.

In a way, he’d expected someone like Harry to walk into his life. He just never expected to be sat in holding his hand as they wait for the rheumatologist to call his boyfriend’s name, sat on an uncomfortable waiting room chair with bated breath. Vague memories of playing with legos in hospital waiting rooms when he was little, tagging along to his sister’s diabetes check-ups cross his mind but it doesn’t feel the same. By the time he was old enough to understand why he was playing with sterilised toys and not his own, he was old enough to stay at after-school clubs and his mum could better afford child care. He understands now, and the weight of everything the man sat next to him has to deal with plays heavily on his mind. 

Harry turns to him and squeezes his hand lightly. “Don’t look so worried, Lou,” he smiles. “I’m used to this, it’s just intense sometimes.”

The guilt he feels at his boyfriend comforting him at his own hospital appointment flashes briefly across his chest. “I’m not worried, love,” he says, returning Harry’s smile. “It’s just a little unfamiliar, I guess.”

“Worlds away from your fancy high-rises in New York is it?” Harry teases, poking him in his ribcage. 

“Oi! That’s not fair; I can’t poke you back.” He pretends to pout, but he doesn’t mind at all that he has to be gentler with Harry. He’d deserve to be treated gently even if he wasn’t ill. 

The rheumatologist calls Harry’s name before he can reply and Louis rushes to help Harry up so he doesn’t have to press so hard on his walking stick and hurt his hand. He flashes Louis a grateful smile before he greets the serious doctor with an air of familiarity. Louis then steps forward as the doctor glances at him, “Hi, I’m Louis. Harry’s boyfriend,” he says formally, shaking her hand. She introduces herself as Dr Swann before beckoning them further down the maze of corridors until they reach her office. 

“Okay Harry, it’s nice to see you again. How have you been doing since our last appointment in - ” she pauses as she checks her notes, “late July?”

Harry hesitates for a moment and Louis caresses the skin of his hand with his thumb. “It’s been a little difficult if I’m honest. I was hospitalised in August during an extreme flare-up and had another hard one last week. I’ve also had rather a lot of trouble adjusting to the colder weather, as expected, but other than that it hasn’t been too bad.” 

Dr Swann takes a moment to reply, jotting a few notes down in her file. “Right, okay. Have you had any lasting effects from your flare-ups or any other worsening in your condition?” She’s a very intense person, Louis notices. She fixes her eyes on Harry for the entire time she’s speaking and doesn’t give an awful lot away in her facial expressions. 

Harry looks down as he starts to answer her question. He warned Louis that he finds speaking about his flare-ups rather difficult; that it makes him realise the severity of his condition sometimes which lowers his mood. “I’ve had a residual ache in my left collarbone since the first flare-up but that isn’t too bad. The nausea from the last one hasn’t left yet, though, which is quite debilitating I guess…” He looks to Louis to help him explain how he’s been feeling. 

“He finds it hard to sit up or eat at the moment, really,” Louis says as he watches Dr. Swann look sharply at him. “It’s a better day, today, isn’t it H? But for a lot of the day he usually has to be horizontal.”

“That’s understandable. How has the ondansetron been for helping with nausea, Harry?” 

“Definitely the most effective of all the ones the GP has put me on. It doesn’t completely eradicate it but it means that sometimes things don’t feel so wobbly and I can manage some toast.” 

“Right. Well, your collarbone pain should ease over the next month or so, but it could just be a worsening of pain in that area. Either way, it should stop being a bother because your pain tolerance will start to cover it, hopefully,” she says as she places her file down. 

Dr. Swann ends her appointment with a physical examination. Harry cries a lot and squeezes Louis’ hand, but it makes Louis happy in a way - that he can be here for him and ease the pain his boyfriend’s feeling as his mobility is assessed. 

*

Louis directs the driver to Harry’s flat when he comes to pick them up outside the main hospital entrance, knowing that his boyfriend will want familiarity and closeness after a difficult day. It was a bonus that Liam was staying with his new girlfriend overnight, leaving an empty flat for the two of them to share. A smile plays gently over his lips as Harry leans into his side, head resting on his shoulder as Louis wraps an arm around him to make sure he’s stabilised for the short ride home. The intimacy is comforting; Harry a solid, warm presence wrapped around him.

“Tired, my love?” he asks softly, his free hand coming up to gently brush a hair from Harry’s forehead. 

He only hums in response, exhausted by the mental and physical toll that hospital appointments take from him. 

Louis orders takeaway as soon as Harry is settled on the sofa with a sitcom he’s never had the time to watch but Harry insists is the best show ever playing across the TV, knowing his boyfriend’s order off by heart, now. He puts the phone down and plugs it in to charge before turning to find Harry watching him with a soft expression on his face.

“You alright, baby?” He treads lightly over the soft rugs on the lounge-room floor and kneeling in front of Harry, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his forehead, eyelids and cheeks before reaching his lips, kissing him slowly. How can I ever convey just how much I love you?

Harry’s wearing his dopey, I’ve-just-been-kissed-by-my-boyfriend expression when he pulls back, eyes already glassy from the small amount of affection. Louis’ always been amazed by just how responsive Harry is, how he can look so fucked out from the slightest attention he pays him. “I’m alright, Lou. Still love watching you order for me.” A blush spreads across his cheekbones as he nuzzles against the hand that found itself in his hair. 

“I know you do, baby.” Louis smiles. “Knew from the first time we went out, didn’t I? Ordered for you at the restaurant, and dear God, I could have taken you apart right there and then.” 

Harry’s face spreads into a loud, unabashed giggle. “Not my fault you were so damn sexy.”

“That is definitely on me, I can’t apologise enough.” 

Harry watches him with careful attention as he picks himself up from the floor and arranges himself on the sofa, putting Harry’s feet in his lap. “No,” he whines once he realises what Louis’ doing. “Want to lean on you.”

“Very well, then,” Louis sighs, completely and utterly put-upon, “I must cave to my very needy baby’s needs, mustn’t I?” He doesn’t mind, though. Harry needing just as much as Louis likes to give is a real bonus of meeting your actual soulmate in a hospital corridor. He rearranges them so Harry’s head is resting on his chest, legs spread across the sofa. Realistically, he knows they’ll have to sort themselves out and move around a couple more times that evening as Harry finds it too painful to stay in one position, but he doesn’t mind, he just wants him to be comfortable. Threading his fingers through Harry’s curls, he asks, “is that alright, love?”

Harry just sighs happily, and that’s more than enough for Louis. 

*

It’s a nice evening, but it isn’t a nice night. Harry’s nearly crying from the frustration and pain that are staving off sleep, an enemy to the single most important thing in ensuring he can function the following day. His heated blanket and weighted blanket are snuggled around him, the room is cool and the lighting is perfect, Louis is right beside him sleeping off the emotionally intense day — everything is perfect, but he still can’t sleep. He ends up on twitter, scrolling through his timeline endlessly before switching to Instagram, then Tumblr, then Facebook. But every time he turns his phone off and tries to sleep, the pain is so overwhelming and so intense he has to turn it back on just for the distraction. It’s a vicious cycle and he’s in tears by 1am, desperately trying not to wake Louis up and desperately trying to avoid the urge to shake him and have him hold him while he cries.

Eventually, however, Louis wakes up when Harry jerks upright as his leg seizes up, uncontrollable groans slipping past his lips as he bites his finger so hard he tears the skin. “Harry, love, what’s wrong?” 

“Quinine. Quinine, please,” he sobs as he grasps his leg in agony. 

“Okay. First let’s try what Dr. Swann advised, remember? I’m going to gently ease your foot up and stretch the calf muscle to encourage it to release, okay?” Louis says calmly, voice rough with sleep. Once Harry gasps his consent, Louis gently stretches his muscle until the cramps start to ease and Harry begins to relax the other muscles he’d been tensing so tightly. He turns the bedside lamp on before turning back to his boyfriend. “Okay, baby?” 

Harry nods, eyes still wet and legs restless from the poor night’s sleep as he leans back against the pillow and turns away from Louis to bite back tears. Climbing back up the mattress, Louis gently touches Harry’s chin, encouraging him to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Bad night,” Harry whispers, blinking quickly to clear his vision of tears in the darkness of the room. 

“And what can we do about that, lovely?” Louis asks gently, leaning in to kiss Harry sweetly before pulling back. “How does a bath, some medicine, a re-arranged bed and a bite to eat sound?”

“You have work in the morning, Lou,” Harry sighs. He loves how Louis looks after him but hates that his illness is such a load of baggage that it disrupts Louis’ life as well as his own. 

“Sweetheart,” Louis admonishes softly. “First of all, you’re more important than work, darling, and you know that. Secondly, I can function on a few hours less sleep than usual. You, on the other hand, need a good night so this doesn’t start a flare, yeah? Getting you calm and rested is my top priority right now, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry concedes, a little tearfully still. “I love you so much.”

“I love you even more,” Louis smiles, kissing him again. “Now, let's get you into the bathroom.”

Once Harry tries to sit up and realises the pain is too much, Louis moves the house stroller at the side of the bed a little closer to ease the journey and maneuvers them to the bathroom, sitting Harry on the loo while turning on the hot tap in the bath and sprinkling in all his favourite scents. “The all-important decision, of course,” Louis says, eyeing his boyfriend seriously. “Is whether we use the pink or lilac bath bomb.”

Harry giggles and Louis feels some of the tension he hadn’t realised he’d been holding leave his shoulders and he smiles over at him gently. “I think… it has to be the pink one, right?” Harry says, the smile on his face taking the edge away from the pain around his eyes. 

“You’re absolutely right, Mr. Styles,” Louis says solemnly, before joining Harry in his quiet giggles. “Now, you keep an eye on the bath, alright, and I’ll grab everything else we need. Will you be okay on your own for a few minutes?” 

When he’d first met Harry and helped him through difficult moments like this, he’d felt stupid and fussy for asking questions like that, before he realised that sometimes Harry really didn’t want to be alone, and preferred to hold his hand and follow him around while he collected the things he needed, if he was able to. 

This time, though, Harry nodded, leaning back against the back of the toilet and closing his eyes. 

Louis quickly made a slice of peanut butter and banana on toast, went to the cardboard box on top of the dresser where all of his medicines were neatly collated and organised to grab the necessary pills and turned the heated blanket off, shook all the sheets out before returning them back to the newly cooled bed. Returning to the bathroom, Harry greets him with a tired smile as Louis dims the bathroom lights even further and hands him the toast, knowing how hungry he gets when he’s up in the night. 

It’s only a few minutes later that they’re settled into the comforting heat of the pink, jasmine-scented water, Harry leaning against Louis’ chest as they wait for the medicine to kick in and the warmth of the bath to do its job. “Are you feeling any better, baby?” Louis asks after ten minutes of comfortable solitude, the coziness making them both feel sleepy in the humidity of the bathroom. 

“Yes,” Harry affirms, locking his fingers through Louis’. “Thank you.”

Louis kisses the top of Harry’s head. “Don’t be silly, my lovely. Always gonna help you out like this, aren’t I? Next time, you wake me up sooner. Don’t want you feeling poorly all on your own just because of silly things like work and sleep schedules, okay?”

It’s 2.30am by the time they’re back in bed, mostly dry with Harry’s pain eased and hunger satiated. Louis curls Harry against him, holding him closely as they drift off together, alarm sneakily turned off and message sent to his assistant to ensure his entire focus was on the beautiful boy he had the pleasure of holding every night. 

*

Louis wakes up first, the light streaming through the curtains telling him they’d most likely had a decent lie-in after the eventful night. He squints at the alarm clock on the bedside table, which tells him it’s half-nine. Frowning slightly, he knows it won’t be enough sleep for Harry as he feels him stirring beside him, still resting on his chest, though their legs were considerably more entwined than last night. “Morning, baby.”

Harry sighs, restless legs kicking in almost immediately. “Morning, Lou.” He stretches away from Louis and rubs his eyes trying to get himself out of the half-awake state he’s told Louis so many times he hates with a passion. 

“You wake yourself up, love, while I grab us some breakfast, yeah?” He only receives a mumble in response and heads to the kitchen, chuckling. He switches on the kettle and gets the mugs out (most important thing first) before buttering Harry some toast, grabbing a glass of water, and making up a nice, hearty bowl of porridge for himself, piling it all on a tray to bring to his boyfriend in bed. “Your herbal tea and buttery toast, my liege.” Louis bows as he places the food on the bedside table and helps Harry sit up, rearranging the pillows rather than dragging him up, knowing that’s the part he gets most frustrated with when he’s tired. 

“Thanks, love,” Harry smiles gratefully, but it’s thin and weary. He looks pale and gaunt, eyes shadowed and dark after the lack of sleep and the toll of the pain overnight.  
“Take your pills first, babes,” Louis says as he hands Harry the tray and climbs back into bed. 

“Yes, I do know how to manage my illness, thanks, Louis.” It’s half-joking, but he’d be lying if he didn’t notice the bite to Harry’s tone and he tries not to feel offended, knowing how he’s feeling. 

“I know you do, H,” he says lightly, reaching for his tea. “I was just saying.”

Harry downs his pills before pushing the tray away and sinking down into the pillows a little more. “I’m sorry, Lou,” he sighs, forcing the tears he can feel welling up back down, cursing the heightened emotion inevitable in a tired Harry. “I shouldn’t take it out on you. Just feel like shit.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Louis says, reaching a hand down to Harry’s. “You don’t need to apologise. Now, let’s eat some breakfast and then have a lazy morning before I have to head to work later on, yeah?” 

“Okay,” Harry concedes, grabbing a slice of toast, slightly cooled by the time he eats it. “But only if that lazy morning involves an orgasm or two.” 

The cheeky smile on his face, however pale he looks, makes Louis grin. He’s so fucking in love with that boy it makes him sick.


End file.
